


crawl home to her

by emmaofmisthaven



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 08:12:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3167789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaofmisthaven/pseuds/emmaofmisthaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She needs only one glance his way to know, because it’s written all over his face, and in his tenses shoulders, and his stiff muscles – he’s a ticking time-bomb, her brother, ready to explode if he spends one more minute without his princess.</p>
<p>spoilers for 2x10</p>
            </blockquote>





	crawl home to her

He’s been pacing for minutes, or maybe hours, feet stomping on the metallic floor of the Ark, echoing through the entire building. Octavia winces every time he turns around and starts walking again, winces and notices how white his knuckles are – she’s pretty sure he would draw blood on the palms of his hands if it wasn’t for the fact he’s been biting his nails since he was ten.

She understand his state of mind, she really does – they were kicked out of the Council room before they even step foot into it, and now all they can do is wait until the adults come to a decision. A decision Bellamy will probably not approve, because he’s Bellamy and because the adults are morons. (What else is new?)

Still, even if she expected him to be… disturbed by the latest events, she would have never imagined him getting so worked-up over it.

But it’s Clarke. So.

She wonders if he knows, if he’s aware of the show he’s offering her and the guards right now. Probably not, because his skull is just that thick. But she knows. She needs only one glance his way to know, because it’s written all over his face, and in his tenses shoulders, and his stiff muscles – he’s a ticking time-bomb, her brother, ready to explode if he spends one more minute without his princess.

She never thought she would witness that.

Her brother in love.

It’s just so obvious she wonders how she missed it until now – the hug was a clue, probably, but then again. Wonders how he managed, still manages to repress his feelings like they don’t exist, like it doesn’t matter, until it comes back and slap him in the face in times of crisis. It makes him a liability, but Octavia knows better than to say it out loud.

He stops all of a sudden, inches from the wall, and Octavia frowns.

“Bellamy…” she starts, a warning.

He doesn’t listen, or probably ignores her. His fist banging against the wall startles her, eyes growing wide in less than a second.

“ _Bellamy_!”

She’s next to him in an instant, hands grabbing his to inspect the bruised knuckles. There is no blood, thankfully, but his hand trembles between hers – his entire body trembles, like he has to physically restrain himself from moving, doing something, anything. Octavia knows the feeling all too well.

“They took her,” is all he says, a whisper through clenched teeth.

Octavia doesn’t know what to do, what to say.

She’s been at the receiving end of his love for seventeen years now, knows everything there is to know of her brother’s mind. When Bellamy loves, he doesn’t do it half-heartedly, and it is perhaps what scares her the most right now. Because she’s been at the receiving end of his love, and so knows nothing can stop him now, nothing anyone will do or say will be effective. He wants Clarke back and so he’ll get Clarke back, whatever the cost, whatever the price.

He shot the Chancellor for his sister.

Octavia doesn’t want to know what he could do for Clarke.

And she feels the pang of something in her chest – it’s not jealousy, thank you very much. She can’t be jealous of Clarke because – because she pities the other girl, somehow. Pity is not the word, not really, but perhaps it’s the closest one in Octavia’s lexicon to describe what she’s feeling right now. Pity and fear and dread, because Bellamy could kill, Bellamy could die and Clarke, Clarke has made it clear she doesn’t want anyone to do that in her name.

It’s not a healthy kind of love, it’s not the kind of love she wishes on anyone. But it’s her brother, and it’s the only kind of love she had growing up so – so she accepted it, embraced it. She knows better, though, knows that love could overturn empires, destroy lives. In Bellamy’s hands, it is the most powerful weapons of all, it is fire and death and wrath.

“They took her, O,” he says again, perhaps for emphasis.

And, really, Octavia had never thought her brother would find someone – it sounds foreign, wrong, out of place. She never thought his feelings for her could grow that way for another person. The only siblings on the Ark, their love was different, their link impossible to understand. And, rationally, she knows he doesn’t love Clarke the way he loves her, but, still. It is dangerous, that much is clear, and it will only get worse with each minute Clarke stays with the Grounders, with each hour without Bellamy following her like a ghost, a dutiful knight.

It will destroy him, more than anything.

So she says, “We’ll get her back,” and she means it. She says it with her head high and her shoulders square, looking at her brother in the eyes. They’ll get Clarke back, least she loses her brother too, least he goes mad, madder than Finn, than the men who thought it a good idea to bomb their own planet.

They’ll find Clarke, because Bellamy is nothing without his princess.

And Octavia may not agree with that statement, but she’ll be damn if she doesn’t protect her brother the way he protected her all those years, if she doesn’t make sure he is alright, he doesn’t lose himself in the thought of golden hair and a kind smile.

The things you do for love…


End file.
